


Mad World

by badwolv



Category: Donnie Darko (2001), Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Darker!Max, Donnie Darko AU, Everyone looks hot in uniform, F/F, Mature for themes and probably some intimate relations later on, Max has a brother Murphy, Victoria is the new girl on campus, obviously everyone also has unrequited feelings for one another
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-08-23 08:39:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16615637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolv/pseuds/badwolv
Summary: "Where is Max?"Max Caulfield begins to sleep walk again and her friends are worried. During one of her journeys, she comes into contact with a shadowy figure dressed in a demented bunny suit heeding her a warning:"28 days. 6 hours. 42 minutes. 12 seconds. That is when the world will end."Now, what is Max going to do with that information?





	1. October 1st

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a little dark story I've been working on. It's based on the film Donnie Darko (HINT: a youtube search should bring you to the full length movie). ;)  
> Basically, I take elements from that film and blend it into Blackwell Academy. No worries, if you haven't seen the film, you'll be fine. 
> 
> FYI: Max has a brother Murphy in this universe. Blackwell Academy is uppity and makes everyone wear uniforms. The character of Frank Bunny is very similar to the cosmic creature of the blue butterfly in LiS. (Take that as you will). Victoria is new on campus and isn't necessarily influenced by the Vortex Club. Max is a bit darker, less naive. 
> 
> I'll be combining the two atmospheres of both stories and I hope you all like it. Please leave thoughts and let me know what you think and if I should continue.

 

 

**October 1 st**

 

* * *

A worn out looking lighthouse was stationed at the edge of a cliff, facing bravely into a sea of silver, icy waters and black rock. The morning sunlight reflected tiny glittering fragments off the surface of the lazy, lulling waves. Altogether it was a peaceful and beautiful morning in Arcadia Bay, Oregon. The town and its inhabitants were still sleepy and hidden away into their beds. The only movement near the body of glassy water were fishermen and their crafts out to catch their paychecks due to the bounty of sea specimens. Everything seemingly ordinary as it typically was and should be in the sleepy sea side town.

Max Caulfield lay in the center of the winding dirt path to the lighthouse overlook. Her small frame curled up around a messenger bag in a deep slumber, her body shuddered against the early morning chill. Eyes shut, she reached out for her comforter to only feel the crumble of dirt in her hands.

_What?_

Max pulled open a pair of ocean blue eyes in protest and squinted at the unexpected sunlight reflecting at her. Sitting up slowly from her curled position, she saw her fallen bike near some patchy grass just off the pathway. The lighthouse loomed ahead, bracing against the scattering sunlight of the orange and red skyline breaking over the ocean.

_Okay, well…I guess I’m at the lighthouse._

Inhaling deeply to attempt to come to her senses, Max searched for any memory of coming out here sometime last night. After a minute or two of blanks, she pulled herself up with a deep groan and brushed some dirt from the back of her pajama pants.

Sometimes when her nightmares were bad, Max tended to sleepwalk in the middle of the night. She had done so since she was a child. Her parents had to keep four different locks on the doors at home to make it as difficult as possible for her to walk out and leave. Her brother Murphy could occasionally be found sleeping on the couch at home to make sure Max was sent back safely to her bedroom if the four-lock trick didn’t work. There had been several close calls back home. She didn’t live with her parents anymore since residing in her high school’s dormitory. She hadn’t been brushed with her nightmares in over six months now, or so she figured. How she managed to get off campus and ride her bike at night all the way to the lighthouse without getting lost or hit by a car was a complete mystery to her.

_Maybe I should put four locks on my dorm door too, to keep me from exploring at night._

This, surprisingly, wasn’t the oddest place she had ever woken up at and for that, Max was grateful. She checked her watch and realized she had to get back to the dorm as soon as possible before people started wondering where she went off to. There were only a handful of people that knew about Max’s night journeys and she preferred to keep it that way. The messy haired brunette grabbed her messenger bag and pulled her bike upright and jumped on it, pedaling fast.

Max pedaled as fast as her short legs allowed. Max frequently rode her bike around so her legs were lean and strong for someone of her stature. She reached the front of the dorm before the time hit 8:00 a.m. Luckily for her, the halls seemed mostly subdued and sleepy so Max snuck her way up to the top floor and went towards her bedroom down the hall of the girl’s dormitory. Most Blackwell Academy girls were either waking now or hiding in their warm beds, protesting the need to get up and get ready for classes.

Reaching her own bedroom door she noticed a new message written on the whiteboard in her brother Murphy’s precise and neat handwriting: **_Where is Max?_**

_Fuck, I forgot we were supposed to meet for a morning bike ride at 7:00 a.m. I absolutely spaced on that one._

Murphy must have decided to use their family’s inside joke whenever Max took her sleepwalk adventures in the middle of the night. She did find it somewhat humorous, the thing her parents and brother would say when Max would be fast asleep in the kitchen or on the back porch: **_Where is Max?_**

She pulled out her phone and typed a half-assed apology to Murphy before hitting send. He must have knocked on the door at around 7:00 a.m. and found the lack of answer or noise as suspicious. Her phone vibrated quickly.

 **MURPH:** Max, buddy! Don’t tell me you forgot about our sibling bike ride this morning!

Max unlocked her door with one hand while cradling her phone in the other. She quickly dropped her messenger bag and grabbed her shower caddy. She was pretty certain there were leaves and dirt stuck in the back of her head that she would have a great time attempting to get out in the weak stream of the Blackwell Academy showers.

Max sighed and decided the truth was the best course of action as Murphy was bound to know the real reason she missed their bike ride this morning anyway. His little joking whiteboard message was simply an indication.

 **MAX:** Sorry. Went for a little night walk apparently. I’m fine though. Safe and sound back at the dorm. I saw your message.

 **MURPH:** Whoa. I thought you haven’t had any nightmares or night journeys in like a year? You sure you’re good?

 **MAX:** Yep. Never been better. See you at breakfast.

Max tossed her phone onto her bed and quickly headed towards the showers before too many girls filled up the bathroom. It was always weird and awkward seeing the prettier, better developed girls stalking about with their business out and around the public showers of the dormitory. Max wanted to avoid that as much as possible.

Once she was satisfied that there weren’t any more leaves or dirt stuck to her body, she quickly got dressed and grabbed her messenger bag full of materials needed for the day. She rushed out of the front doors of the dormitory and headed towards the cafeteria to meet her friends and brother before first period.

If Max had to be honest, she was glad that Murphy was a senior and was dorming on campus with her as well. Sure, her brother could be irritating and nosey, but that didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate his help when she needed it. Besides, they were relatively close and hung around the same friend group for the most part. Her childhood best friend, Chloe Price, had grown up to be friends with Max’s older brother and the two could be found at times smoking a joint under the football bleachers during free periods. Max wasn’t allowed or able to participate as any hallucinogenic drugs were terrible for her nightmares. She learned from experience and let her friends partake whenever they wanted without judgement. She simply couldn’t join in on that type of fun for the sake of her mental stability.

Max pulled up to the front of the cafeteria and locked her bike into the rack. She adjusted her messenger bag and swung open the cafeteria doors, the smell of pancakes and breakfast meats hitting her nostrils. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until this moment. Her nightly and morning bike ride must have taken all bits of her energy.

“Mornin’, Mad Max!” Chloe yelped from behind the table of their usual booth. The skinny, tall, blue haired girl wore her usual school uniform. Chloe’s signature lazy tie hung around her neck, untied beneath the blue collar of her button up shirt.

Max caught eyes with her brother Murphy who sat in the booth seat across from Chloe and she gave him a grimace, warning him not to mention any nighttime stroll to her friends at the table. They all knew about them, but she’d preferred that they didn’t worry unnecessarily.

“It’s pancake day, Max,” a soft voice whispered into her right ear.

Max turned her head and spotted the most beautiful face on campus. Her golden hair was shiny and perfectly frizz free as a single feathered earring hung from one ear, swaying. She had that signature, coy glint in her eyes.

“Hey, Rachel. Please tell me you didn’t let your girlfriend eat six pancakes already. Last time she ate ten and threw up in Chemistry class.” Max playfully bumped her shoulder into Rachel’s. Chloe dramatically frowned from the booth and tapped the back of her fork against the table.

“I’ll have you know, Maxaroni, that I’m allowed to eat however many pancakes I want. If I want to eat ten, I will eat ten.” Chloe humorously puffed out her chest in pride at her talent for eating things.

Rachel gently gave Max’s shoulder a squeeze before balancing a tray full of food in the other hand. She slid into the booth next to Chloe who happily rubbed her hands together at the feast her girlfriend brought for her.

“Max, want to go grab something to nosh on with me?” Murphy gave her a white toothed grin. His wild, curly brown hair shrouded most of his blue eyes, but Max could still tell that they wanted to ask her about whatever happened last night.

Max threw her bag into the now unoccupied side of the booth and began walking towards the buffet line of the cafeteria beside her brother. Once they were away from ear shot, he wheeled in on her.

“So…where did you go this time?” Murphy asked casually as he grabbed an apple and tossed it smoothly into his other hand.

“None-yuh,” Max stated back, tugging a damp brown tray from the stack.   

“Oh, good one, Maximus.”

Max rolled her eyes and followed behind Murphy in the breakfast line. He puffed some hair away from his eyes before pulling a stack of pancakes onto his tray next to the apple. He peeked at her from the corner of his vision, attempting to gather knowledge on what she was thinking.

“Give it a rest, okay. I’m fine. I—,” Max was about to tell him the truth, but decided he would get dramatic about her riding so far to the lighthouse without any memory of doing so. She cleared her throat and continued, “I woke up near the Tobanga Totem _unscathed_.”

“The totem, huh? Do you think that’s like a sign or something?” He asked, biting into the green skinned apple.

Max gave him an unenlightening shrug and pulled her tray down the line to the cereal section. She poured herself a bowl of marshmallow cereal and swiped a carton of milk from the cooler.

“Maybe we should put locks on your dorm room too, just like home. It’ll be like living with Mom and Dad all over again.” He gave her a lop-sided grin.

“Don’t worry, with you always hovering around me even on campus, it’s exactly like living with Mom and Dad again.” She said dryly.

Murphy took another bite of the apple and leaned closer to her face. Her brother was much taller than she was, but he was only a few inches taller than Chloe.

“Ha-ha. I’m the one who helped convince them to let you live on campus your last two years of high school. You should be grateful to me. I told them I’d look out for you.”

Max scrunched up her face in annoyance as they got in the pay line. Max pulled out her meal card and swiped it. A beep sounded and Max followed behind her brother back to their table of friends.

“I mean, what are you going to do now that this is my last year? You’ll have to figure out how to navigate your senior year without me because I will be at Harvard.”

Rachel gave the Caulfields a soft wave when they returned to the table with their tray of breakfast foods. Chloe perked up at hearing Max and Murphy’s tail end of the conversation and stuck a thick slice of pancake into her mouth before speaking.

“Slow down there, cowboy, you haven’t gotten any admission letter from Harvard just yet. Maybe you can be like me and stay back another year.” Chloe laughed before swallowing her mouthful of pancake.

Rachel gave Chloe a gentle grin before resting her head against Chloe’s shoulder. They were always pretty coupley-looking. They were certainly a gossip buzz around campus. Everyone was always kind of secretly talking behind covered mouths about how edgy and interesting the attractive gay couple were, with Max hearing it in the everyday background soundtrack to her life. Plus, the gentle ease of Rachel’s character and the empathetic confidence she possessed allowed her to fit in with every clique. Rachel Amber put nearly everyone at Blackwell under her feminine, mystic spell. People for the most part liked Chloe’s no-care attitude and humorous personality. When the school began to buzz with rumors about _Rachel Amber_ skipping classes to hang out with the one smartass punk girl who had been held back a year for causing trouble and missing school, Chloe quickly became more intriguing and desirable. Other girls had eyes for Chloe. Other girls _and_ guys had eyes for Rachel Amber.

 _And yet, here they are together, giving each other these looks all the time._  

Max blinked, _life is strange._

Rachel’s laugh pulled her back to focus, “Babe, I’m sure Murph would rather be chasing Harvard hotties than smoking pot under the bleachers with you during school hours.” Rachel grinned and gave Chloe’s hand a squeeze.

Chloe feigned a look of hurt, throwing her hand against her heart in dramatics.

Murphy laughed as he finished his apple. “Yeah, she’s right. Besides, I’m going to have to hang out with more straight girls at Harvard. Ones that aren’t dating each other. Don’t get me wrong, you guys are the shit, but I’m assuming the demographics of straight girls are considerably higher there.”

Chloe pouted, deep in thought. “Well, I’ll be damned. The man makes sense, it’s like half the school is on some type of rainbow wave one way or the other.” Chloe continued to chew and added, “Plus, it’s _Harvard._ That’s the most hetero shit ever.”

Rachel shot Murphy a pointed warning look before falling into her famous smile. It was always so easy for Rachel to know what she was feeling. Max wondered if Rachel caught Murphy’s tiny dig about her and Chloe. To make things that much more interesting, it didn’t help that Murphy had a secret crush on Rachel ever since Chloe introduced the two. Max knew her brother would never act on it, nor would Rachel, but it sure made some drunken nights interesting. Chloe never seemed to catch on to Murphy’s little crush on Rachel or, Max figured, it was also possible that Chloe was so confident in her lady-reigning skills that she never saw her friend Murphy as a threat to her relationship. Either way, the dynamic between her friend group always kept Max entertained in the very least.

Max scarfed down her cereal in less than a minute and when she looked up, she saw her friends watching her curiously. Chloe seemed to be debating asking _the_ question Max dreaded, but finally Chloe opened her mouth.

_They probably talked about me this morning._

“Somebody is hungry today. You’re usually like this after your night adventures.” Chloe stated it so matter-of-factly after years of knowing each other, that Max couldn’t even get mad at her for bringing it up out loud. Of course, she’d rather not talk about it at all, but this was Chloe asking.

“Yeah, not a big deal.” Max said back, hiding her face in the empty, milky bowl of her cereal.

She heard Murphy scoff beside her. He took a swig of orange juice and set the bottle down, probably readying himself to continue asking his questions.

Murphy leaned over to get closer to Max. “Have you been taking your meds, Mad Max?” He whispered it just loudly enough for Rachel and Chloe to hear.

Murphy used that nick-name in conjunction with that specific question on purpose. Her brother wasn’t ‘Mad Murphy’. Her brother was brainy and scholarship material. He never disappointed their parents, he was always an easygoing kid growing up. Max had stapled herself as the ‘off’ kid of Ryan and Vanessa Caulfield. Yet, Max found the whole thing ridiculously ironic. Max never used any illegal drugs a day in her life and there was her handsome, valedictorian brother often selling marijuana to classmates at parties and behind bleachers. This was the same brother who was up for possible admission into Harvard.

_I wish I could be that goddamned lucky._

Murphy tapped Max’s hunched shoulder with the back of his fork, attempting to get her to respond. The action caused a bubble of irritation to rise in her gut. She just wished her brother wouldn’t bring up shit like her medicines and mental issues at the cafeteria booth in front of her friends at 8:45 a.m. It was too early for that unnecessary shit.

“Will you please fuck off, Murph?” Max mumbled into her chest, head still down close to her bowl.

Max felt a soft, warm hand wrap around hers that rested on the table top. She peered through her bangs and caught Rachel Amber giving her that caring, worried look. Her hazel eyes were honest and anxious for Max to give an answer to Murphy’s question.

_Oh, hell._

“Yes, I’m taking my goddamned meds, alright?” Max lied.

The table got tense for a moment. Chloe wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her navy uniform blazer and smacked her lips.

“You all heard the girl, she said she is taking them. Hop off the dick, guys.” Chloe gave Rachel a very piercing stare, warning her to break contact with Max’s limp hand.

Luckily, everyone listened to Chloe, like they always did, and Max felt Rachel’s hand drift away. Sure, Chloe and Rachel were official and all, but Max was in Chloe’s heart first and Rachel usually respected that with no issue. Murphy slurped down the rest of his orange juice beside her. She felt a jostling of the booth cushion beneath her and Max stood up just in time for Murphy to slide out from the inside seat. She lazily plopped herself back into the booth. He stood at the end of the table and gave them all a quick wave.

“I have some business to tend to under the bleachers before first period, but have a great, boring day at Blackwell Academy everyone.” For extra effect, Murphy tapped his backpack of merchandise before turning on his heels to exit the cafeteria.

“A minor-league drug dealer getting into Harvard…what do you think his chances are?” Chloe said aloud to nobody in particular.

Max snorted and brought her head upward to meet eyes with Chloe. She and Chloe were really the only two who could make jokes about Murphy’s secret business. Everybody else either respected Murphy too much to poke fun at him or had no idea at all what he did other than the honors society and being decently popular with people on campus. It was actually a perfect cover for a minor-league drug dealer like her brother.

“You already bought from him this morning didn’t you, Chlo?” Max gave her best friend a knowing grin.

Chloe opened her mouth to protest, but laughed when Max raised a brow in suspicion. The blue haired girl raised her hands in defeat.

“Okay, you got me,” she chuckled. “I picked up a quarter before you got here.”

Rachel leaned forward across the table and raised a humored brow. “They exchanged under the table like a bunch of expert delinquents.”

Chloe wrapped her long arms around Rachel and playfully planted kisses around her head and face. Rachel squealed in feint protest to the affection of her girlfriend. Max sharply inhaled, not really wanting to hang around to watch them start kissing, which happened more frequently than she liked.

“Alright, lovebirds, _I’m_ going to photography. I’ll see you guys later,” she grabbed her tray and ignored the flirty giggling coming from behind her.

Max reached the cool breeze of outside and unlocked her bike. As she began pedaling towards the main building, her mind raced as fast as her legs. She had an odd feeling in her gut, as if she had forgotten something. Her mind scanned over everything she needed for the day and she decided that she wasn’t missing any school supplies. Max weaved her bike expertly through students on their way to their first class of the day. A gaggle of attractive popular kids took up the entire sidewalk ahead of her so she hit her brakes to avoid ramming into their backsides.

Nathan Prescott walked with swagger and rich guy edge ahead of Max. He laughed with one of his crony boys, a thick and tall jock named Logan. Their fingers were pointed at the quiet resident Christian girl of Blackwell Academy named Kate Marsh. She and Max had a few decent positive interactions in classes and frequently said or nodded hello to each other. Max found the whole Christianity thing weird, as Max and her family had never been religious, but realized Kate was a kind and quiet girl who didn’t deserve all the shit that the Vortex Club dished out at her.

_Who cares if she’s Jesus biggest fan?_

Nathan slung his navy crested uniform blazer over a shoulder and pulled a wad of paper from his slack’s pocket. As the Vortex Club passed by Kate, who was minding her own business, nose deep in a leather-bound bible, Nathan whipped the paper ball full force against the girl’s skull. It bounced off and rolled sadly into the grass. Max could see Kate’s pale cheeks brighten in embarrassment.

Max applied her brakes on her bike fully and twisted the handles in aggravation. She probably shouldn’t say anything, but it bugged the hell out of her nonetheless.

“Just leave her alone, Nathan,” Max growled to the back of the well-groomed head of hair. She gripped her handlebars tightly.

Nathan Prescott whirled around, eyes lowered, a scowl plastered across his face. The rest of the Vortex crew stopped when Nathan did, all shooting stink-eyes in Max’s direction. Two of the girls named Courtney and Taylor began laughing in a high-pitched fake harmonized act.

“Oh, gross, Nathan. Don’t let that fucking freak talk to you.” Courtney glared at Max’s hardened face.

Max saw Kate prickle upwards regarding this new development ahead of her on the green. People probably didn’t usually say shit to Nathan on her behalf.

“The town weirdo is trying to get your attention obviously, Nate,” Logan sneered. “Maybe she’s got a little crush on you.”

Max feigned a dramatic gagging sound before jumping off her bike seat. It was always so ridiculous that these people thought themselves to be the most fuckable in school. Max wouldn’t touch any of them with a ten-foot pole.

“Even if I played for the straight team, I still wouldn’t go near you nasty fuckers.”

A tall, pixie haired blonde with pointed features sauntered over to them with ease. Her long legs were dressed in stockings and her hips hugged a navy blue uniform skirt. The light blue uniform blouse was tucked into the skirt as the navy vest accentuated her waist exceptionally well. Max couldn’t recall ever seeing this girl before, someone who managed, other than Chloe, to make the school uniform look surprisingly good. Expensive jewelry adorned her wrist and hands and Max concluded then that this must be a rich pal of Nathan’s.  

Max glanced down at her own faded blue slacks, wrinkled button-up with the sleeves lazily rolled to her elbows, and her crooked blue tie. Her blazer was an old one of Murphy’s from his Freshman year, and Max realized then that she probably looked like a little boy with a bike who got lost on a high school campus compared to the scowling beautiful people ahead of her. She steadied her face.

The pretty blonde locked eyes with Max for a moment, her face curious. Nathan turned to the stranger and gave her a cocky smile as if he had known her for a while. He hit Logan in the shoulder and nodded toward the tall girl ahead of him.

“Give her some of that new shit we picked up last night. Vic, I know this isn’t your style, but it might help those first day nerves.” Nathan grabbed a tiny drug baggie from Logan’s palm and Max caught sight of white.

She rolled her eyes, not necessarily surprised the popular kids were so openly snorting on campus. Max watched as the girl he called Vic furrowed her brow and shook her head no.

“Whatever, suit yourself,” Nathan said in a sing-song voice. He dipped the edge of a key into the bag, plugged a nostril and inhaled loudly. He shook his head and gave a subdued holler in satisfaction.

“I don’t want to be blazed off my ass. I have to go see the Principal before class. He’s giving me my official schedule and shit. I’ll catch you later.” The girl gave the group a curt nod before turning on her heel.

Max didn’t realize she was staring, watching the mysterious blonde weave between students, before the Vortex Club caught on and noticed.

“Looks like Dykefield is interested in your friend, Nate. Don’t even bother with Victoria. She’s going to be one of us and she is certainly not interested in ratty tomboys like you.” Taylor cooed mockingly.  

Luckily for Max, the first bell rang and the Vortex Club all gave her one last group death stare, accompanied with a middle finger from Nathan, and they finally dispersed. Max hopped back on her bike and rode to the rack, locked it in place with her chain, and quickly sped up the front steps of Blackwell Academy. A sea of navy uniforms swelled ahead of her, buzzing and talking loudly in the hall. Max had the urge to avoid any more conversations with people for the day if she could help it, so she kept her head low, hand gripped to the strap of her messenger bag, and pushed through to get to the photography room.

Mr. Jefferson shut the door after the students trickled into the classroom. He was Max’s world famous, renowned photography instructor. The guy had written something like three books on life and on photography. He even assigned one of his own books for the necessary materials for class, which Max found a bit douche-ish. She figured if she was an instructor, she probably wouldn’t assign her own novel with her face on the cover for a class. Unless, she wanted their bucks.

“Well, well, well! Morning everybody. I’m hoping you all read through the three chapters I assigned for last night. As you know, we’ve been talking about dilapidation in photography…”

Max pulled open her notebook and did her best to look like she was interested in the subject. Max did read the assigned chapters, it only took her an hour to comprehend. For what she had in natural intelligence, she lacked in esteem and drive. Max just liked to say she preferred to take things easy. She could very well be the smartest person in nearly all her classes, but instead of actively participating, she’d answer the instructor’s questions in her head, while the instructor picked on other students. Every now and then though, she’d remind the teacher how capable she actually was and shock them.

Sketching in pencil, a pair of unknown feminine eyes at the corner of her notebook stared up at her. She half-listened to the lecture as Jefferson droned on dramatically for the next twenty minutes.

“Let’s analyze this 1978 photograph—,” Jefferson cut into her spaced-out head.

Two solid knocks rattled the class door and the whole room slowly seemed to shift back into focus. A few murmurs were heard through the room as Jefferson walked over to the class door and opened it, speaking with a person out of eyesight. Max, uninterested, looked back down to the pair of eyes watching her from the corner of her notebook and began shading the irises.

“Oh, well this is a nice surprise. Class, we have Victoria Chase with us this semester. She’s new to Blackwell Academy and came all the way from Seattle to study photography and arts with us. Everyone say, ‘Hi, Victoria’.”

Max’s ears perked at the name and her head shot up from her notebook. Sure enough, the pretty, short haired girl from earlier stood regally at the front of the class with a steady smile. She gripped a few books in her hand. Max noticed how her nails shined like a million bucks.

“Hi, Victoria,” the class said in mixed, interested voices. Apparently, most of the class was intrigued by Victoria’s entrance in the middle of a boring lesson.

Max witnessed two male students elbowing each other and whisper back and forth, their eyes glued to the new meat ahead of them. She pulled her attention back to the front of the class where Victoria stood, blushing gently.

“We just mentioned this class period that life is made up of many different choices. The choice of what to photograph. The choice of who to love.”

This is where Mark Jefferson got interesting, Max had to reluctantly admit. The man was a damned good story teller and could probably convince you that a butterfly farting in a Canadian forest was significant to the ways of the world. He loved pinning to a student here or there and he would test them, analyze them by their answers to his philosophical questions, essentially attempting to dissect their personalities and artistic mind. Max found it kind of weird, but always at least, interesting.

Victoria gave him a sweet smile, “It sounds cool, Mr. Jefferson. Where do I sit?”

“So here we have your very first choice in this class. The start to your journey with us this year—it all begins with that question: “where do I sit?” To that, my only answer is: sit next to the person you find the most mysterious.”

Jefferson’s dark brown eyes curiously watched Victoria’s reactions. The other kids all began to murmur and whisper to those around them. A few boys called Victoria’s name, relaxed coolly in their desks. Max leaned back casually into her chair as she watched Victoria scan between a few spots in the room. When she glanced over Max’s way, Victoria gave her a tiny lift of her glossy lip. Jefferson quickly caught on to where Victoria had glanced the longest.

_Why is Mark Jefferson fucking staring at me?_

“Daniel. Please go and move next to Stella.” Jefferson softly demanded over the growing buzz of whispers and a few giggles.

Daniel gave Max a sad look before pulling himself out of the seat next to her. Someone gave a bad excuse of a wolf-whistle behind her. It was then Max realized that Victoria had inadvertently picked _her_ to sit next to.

_I’m the person she finds the most mysterious?_

For some strange reason, it kind of felt like a weird cosmic compliment to her.

Victoria gracefully accepted Jefferson’s odd test and lightly weaved through the haphazard desks, her eyes low to her feet. Victoria weaved behind Max and slid herself into the desk beside her. Max couldn’t help her stupid self so she slowly turned her head to sneak a look at the blonde who smelled like a high-end flower boutique when she walked by.

_Delicate, yet robust, a hint of hidden love…_

Max thought the girl smelled damned good. When Victoria felt Max’s mysterious eyes on her, the blonde turned her head and rested her pointed chin in her palm. Her pointer finger tapped daintily against her upper lip as she gave Max an inquisitive look. Her eyes seemed soft yet coy.

_This is a weird day._

“Sorry you’re stuck by me.” Max offered in a whispered half-joke.

Victoria suppressed a humored grin, narrowing her eyes. “How does it feel to be picked as the most mysterious?”

Max raised an eyebrow, “Well, if I tell you that, I won’t be as much of a mystery.”

“Max! Since it seems like you’ve been entirely paying attention the whole time that I’ve been talking—I want you to tell me who the photographer of this photograph is.”

Max inhaled and slowly looked ahead at Jefferson’s smug face. She studied the screen.

_Guess Jefferson needs a reminder._

“It’s Canadian artist Jeff Wall’s work called _The Destroyed Room_.”

Jefferson furrowed his brow and continued to challenge Max. “I’ll give it to you, Max. I want you to tell the class what this photo is about.”

Max gave him a sour look. “Do I have to stand up too, dog.” She heard Victoria stifle a laugh beside her. She raised a friendly brow at Victoria and theatrically slid out from behind her desk to stand to face Jefferson.

Max’s mouth moved before her brain did. She was putting on a tiny show. “Well…Wall wants us to see this intimate location of a bedroom. The destruction of the red walls, the slash in the mattress, the clothes strewn across the floor. This supposed room’s creator was violent, destructive—a thought wasn’t spared for the wake of damage left after the creator’s obliteration. He wants us to wonder about the damage, how it got there, why did it happen, who created this mess… Right? The thing is, the longer you stare at the photo and wonder, the more you find that you are essentially the destructor and that this is what is left in your wake.”

Max paused, gathered a breath and really decided to hit it home. “Like breaking your lover’s heart and looking at it afterwards; seeing the shit you’ve done. That’s what the photo feels like to me. Destruction as a form of creation.”

The room was quiet for a moment before Mark Jefferson nodded and motioned for Max to sit back down. Victoria watched Max closely with interested eyes.

“As you can see, Max here actually read the last three chapters and was able to give us her own, very accurate and impressive theme analysis of the photograph. Thank you, Max.”

Max didn’t smile, but continued her best nonchalant look for the rest of class, while feeling the periodic gazes from Victoria in the desk beside her.

After the day had been done and all her classes had been attended, Max was showered and clean, she sat cross-legged on the top of her bed, staring at a very particular orange bottle that she had been avoiding the past few months.  

Murphy had been kind of an asshole this morning, but he was at the very least, a correct asshole. It wasn’t good news that she had begun walking and travelling around at night again. Perhaps school became a bit tougher and her subconscious was acting up. Max figured she got better when the nightwalks stopped since being back at Blackwell—but it seemed that they were coming back.

She looked at her door and scoffed at the flimsy lock. It definitely wasn’t four like back home, but she found herself wishing the one was enough.

_Oh, fuck it._

She twisted the lid to her medication and popped a pill into her mouth, swallowing dryly. She didn’t bother taking a swig of water, since she had been taking medications most of her life.

_Swallowing dry pills…what kind of serial killer am I?_

Max pondered that analyzation about herself and pulled her face under her comforter. She found a comfortable position and finally began to doze off into a deep sleep.

 

\--

 

_“Wake up.”_

 


	2. October 2nd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max meets Frank Bunny for the first time. A mysterious accident occurs at Blackwell and everybody is clueless as to how it happened. Chloe attempts to be Max's wingman when Victoria approaches Max in the cafeteria.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, here is chapter two. I hope those who have read it so far like the idea. I'm having a great time writing "private school AU" for these characters. Like I hinted before, you can find the film on youtube with a search in case you get curious and haven't seen it.

\--

_“Wake up.”_

_The command was soft._

_Max slowly sat upwards, her body limp and heavy. She shambled to the door and unlatched it, pulled the security chain free and opened the door._

_“I’ve been…watching you.”_

_The voice was watery and vibrating inside her head._

_Her hand reached out and pulled her dry erase marker from the whiteboard as she walked by. Her eyes were closed._

_“Come…closer.”_

_Max did as she was instructed. She reached the chill of the night, a far off sounding Blackwell clock tower struck midnight._

 

* * *

  _ **OCTOBER 2nd**_

* * *

 

 

_Her feet carried her onward toward the distant, beckoning voice._

_“Closer.”_

_Max’s feet stopped on their own accord. Her eyes opened dreamily into slits and there wasn’t much of Max present at all._

_A tall figure stood ahead of her, partly hidden by shadows, a silvery dreamy sheen._

_Max’s empty and sleepy face crept into a smirk, her eyes locked onto the creature._

_It spoke in its same, soft voice ahead of her._

_“28 days.”_

_Max’s feet pressed forward._

_“6 hours.”_

_The branches groaned with the breeze._

_“42 minutes.”_

_Leaves whistled around them._

_“12 seconds.”_

_Her bare feet halted against the freezing ground._

_The Bunny tilted its head slowly. Max undulated under its gaze._

_“That is when the world will end.”_

_A curious turn of her upper lip._

_“Why?”  
_

_Her eyes were unblinking on the silver, beckoning mask ahead of her._

 

_\--_

 

The sun was hot and its rays beat down on the sleeping figure, dressed in her pajamas.

“ _Jesus._ Is that Max Caulfield?”

Upon hearing her name being spoken by an unknown male, Max pulled her droopy eyes open. Staring down at her was the face of her instructor, Mark Jefferson.

Max blinked.

_I’m at the fucking lighthouse, again?_

She looked around her and verified that very fact. Looming over her again was the Arcadia Bay lighthouse looking as tired and as regal as ever. The sunlight burned her unadjusted eyes. She raised a wobbly hand to shield her face from it.

“Do you need help, Max?” Jefferson asked without much concern, more so with a weirdly placed curiosity. He held a heavy, expensive looking camera in his hands.

Max swallowed hard against her sandy, dry throat and shook her head, still attempting to pull herself together. She said the only thing she could think of saying.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Jefferson. I’m fine.”

She pulled herself into a sitting position and slowly gathered her bearings to stand up. A black smudge caught her eye and she glanced down at her arm, befuddled.

_28:06:42:12_

“I’ve woken up in random places during my youth. Drinking really does that to a person.”

_An eerie, silvery tormented looking bunny rabbit mask tilting its head slowly flashed into her head._

“I’m—I’m not drinking,” Max trailed off, her eyes still glued to the odd handwriting on her inner forearm.

_Frank?_

The name popped into her like it was given by somebody else.

 _What the hell was that?_ Max gulped. Her distorted visions might be making their appearance again, crashing through her life.

“Better get back to campus then,” he said matter-of-factly before making a sharp turn to snap more photographs of the lighthouse in the distance.

Without saying another word, Max slowly stumbled back down the path, her limbs tired and aching from sleeping on the ground again.

It took Max about 45 minutes of uncomfortable, barefooted walking to see Blackwell Academy appear before her. Sounds of a gathering crowd and a voice over a megaphone reached her as she picked up her pace.

“Now, we need everyone to please keep back from the Police line, thank you.”

_Police line?_

A multitude of bodies in pajamas and work attire gathered around the taped off area to the front steps of Blackwell’s campus. A few cops stood in front of the crowd, making their motions to keep the gathering under control.

When Max strolled up to the yellow tape, an officer gave her a dirty look. She ignored him and pushed forward over the line. He placed a hand on her shoulder forcibly, attempting to keep her out.

“This is my school, I go here.”

He gave her a gentle shove backwards and a bubble of irritation she felt spread onto her face.

“I fucking _go here_ , man.” Max pushed her way around the cop and he murmured to the other officers that began jogging over.

Thankfully, they let her continue onwards.

Blackwell students gathered around a roped off area of destruction near the girl’s dormitory. Several scantily dressed female students held each other’s hands and had the look of pure shock on their faces. Male students mingled around them, attempting to comfort them.

_What the fuck happened? A fire?_

“MAX! Oh, my GOD! MAX!” a voice called out.

Pushing through the crowd of sleepy and scared students came Chloe Price. She was dressed in a white tank top and sleeping boxers. What had her surprised was the raw, terrified look she had when jogging up to Max.

The blue haired girl pulled her into a squeezing, suffocating hug. Max felt Chloe’s heart racing against her chest.

“I’m _hella_ confused. What happened?”

Chloe pulled Max away from the hug and gripped her shoulders tightly. Max could have sworn that she was losing feeling in her fingertips. Chloe’s face was ghostly white with worry.

“We all thought you were _hella_ fucking dead!” Chloe breathed, choking on her last words.

“Well, I’m not. I’m right here obviously.” Max smirked. Chloe’s nervous energy then began to infect her.

A sound of running footsteps came up beside them. A wild Murphy appeared, his hair disheveled, eyes wide. He threw his arms around Max and squeezed her into his armpit.

Max crinkled her nose, not very fond of the open intimacy being displayed to her.

“Chloe figured out I’m not dead. Guess you did too.” Max joked, unable to say much else.

Murphy let her go and looked her over, as if she was some type of walking miracle.

“I mean, shit, _Max._ The top part of the lighthouse crashed through your dorm room. They think it must have been a weird storm or something, but they’re refusing to talk to any of us about it.”

_What?_

“The—lighthouse? As in, Arcadia Bay’s _lighthouse_?” Max stammered.

Chloe looked at Max delicately, probably attempting to gage her mindset. “Yeah. Crashed right through dorm room 301, right the fuck where you _live_.”

Max batted her eyes, grabbing onto this new information. Did she really just narrowly escape death because of her nightwalks?

_I was at the lighthouse though and it looked fine._

“How is that even possible? I saw the lighthouse this morning. It looked fucking normal.”

Chloe and Murphy shared quiet, nervous glances.

“Excuse me. Are either of you ladies Miss Caulfield?” A man broke their focus and he held out an intimidating and official looking badge.

_FBI? What the hell?_

“Yeah, I am.” Max said as bravely as she could muster.

“I’m glad to see you are alright after this incident. Could you please step over here with me and my guys privately for a moment? There are a few things we’d like to talk to you about.”

This was when Max realized that whatever was going on must have been serious if the FBI wanted to speak with her. Max woke up at the lighthouse and came back to be told that the lighthouse destroyed her living space on campus and that the agents were working on finding out where it came from. The men dressed in dark colored suits brought her to the trunk of a police vehicle and handed her a clipboard of papers.

“What is this?” Max asked the first agent.

His face was unreadable as he shoved a fancy looking pen in her face.

“We just need you to sign a few documents. Nondisclosures of the whole incident as we work on what happened here. Not to worry, we’ve told the school board that they must get you set-up in a new room within the next 24 hours per direct statement from the bureau.”

Max scanned and flipped through the papers before signing anything.

_Hold on a second…_

“This is an NDA. I really have to sign all of this?” Max’s eyes scanned a very particular passage. “ _And_ I have to promise to keep secret any information of the following and proceeding investigation. What is this? The _X-Files_ or some shit?”

A female agent sighed and pulled her sunglasses from her face before giving Max a surprisingly soft frown.

“I’m sorry, Miss Caulfield. This is even above some of our pay grades.”

Max hummed quietly and flipped through the heavy clipboard as the agents watched her closely. A man standing near the female agent sighed loudly.

“Just so we get this whole thing clear, Miss Caulfield, why _weren’t_ you in your room early this morning?” The man was unreadable beneath his aviator style shades.

_Do all FBI agents buy their sunglasses together?_

“I like…taking walks to clear my head.” Max said in a surprisingly sturdy voice.

A looming, otherworldly vision of the bunny-suited figure with its deformed and wild looking face burned into the back of her eyeballs.

_Did…did he save my life last night by pulling me out of my room?_

Max did her best to steel her face after the flash. The group of suited professionals seemed to take this as a plausible answer. Max finished scanning the packet of papers clipped to the board and hovered the pen over the signature line.

“So…you guys essentially don’t know what happened and I have to sign this and say that _I_ don’t know what happened?” This was weird, even in Max’s book.

The man who asked her the question earlier bristled. “And to sign a court honored document saying that you will, in fact, be cooperative and quiet about this investigation.”

_So this is exactly like the X-Files._

“Alright, whatever you say, Scully and Mulder,” Max rolled her eyes and signed her sloppy signature on the last page.

As quick as the FBI agents appeared around her, they pulled the clipboard from her hands right after she signed it and just as quickly dispersed.

To Max’s dismay, Blackwell Academy decided to keep classes going as if nothing happened at all, probably due to the FBI insisting on keeping things as quiet as possible. Max couldn’t help but ponder on how stupid the whole thing was. Overnight, Max had become a type of celebrity student who narrowly escaped death. For once, the school wasn’t buzzing about Rachel Amber and her punk girlfriend, but of Max. Peers that had never talked to her once suddenly came up to her in the halls to ask her about the lighthouse incident. Text messages buzzed to her phone from known and unknown numbers. Girls and guys _offered_ to buy her lunch.

_This is fucking ridiculous…_

Max felt multiple eyes on her as she lazily chewed the cafeteria’s chicken sandwich, hunched over her tray. She could tell that they were all trying their best to ogle at her when they thought she wasn’t paying attention. 

A drop of a tray on her table across from her seat caused her to jump. She looked up through her bangs and saw the pretty face of Rachel. She sighed some relief.

“Jesus, Max. The whole school is talking about the rogue lighthouse thing and Chloe won’t stop talking about some dudes in Ray-Bans trying to take you away.”

Max sighed and rubbed her neck, still feeling the tightness in it that came with using pathway dirt as a pillow.

“They didn’t try to take me away,” Max almost laughed. She knew Chloe probably thought the whole thing was the coolest thing to ever happen, _now_ that everyone knew Max was alive and unscathed.

_Although if I tell my friends or the FBI that the friendly neighborhood bunny man dragged me away last night, I’ll definitely be taken away._

Rachel raised a delicate brow before taking a sip from a styrofoam coffee cup. Rachel always had a way of making the person she was talking to feel like the most interesting person in the world.

“Would have been kind of cool to have our own cute, little FBI abductee.” She swallowed her drink and gave her a coy smile. “Then we’d all jump into Chloe’s truck and rescue you.”

Max couldn’t help but blush under the coy demeanor of Rachel. Max didn’t even know how Chloe could stand all the sultry looks and innuendos that Rachel Amber dished out on the daily and still act nonchalant and cool back. Maybe that was why Rachel loved Chloe…because she was probably the only bitch at Blackwell that could actually handle her. Not only that, but Chloe could just as well keep Rachel spinning with the things she’d whisper to her.

_If anyone knows what Chloe can do to a person…it’s me._

“Sorry to disappoint you. The fantasy break-out scenario can happen some other time.” Max gave her a warm smile and she suddenly felt loads lighter. Rachel could do that to a person.

“I’d rescue you anytime, anywhere.”

Max choked on a lingering bit of sandwich and felt a heavy slap to her back. She knew it could be only one of two people. A flash of blue hair appeared at the corner of her eye and Max covered her mouth to hold back any choking sounds.

“Don’t kill her, babe! She already narrowly escaped death once today,” Chloe’s voice was at its usual low rasp. Once Chloe clambered into the open chair beside Max, she leaned over. “I think we should celebrate the fact that you’re not crushed by a mysterious chunk of lighthouse and go to the junkyard.”

“You want to go shooting, don’t you?” Max asked through heavy, suspicious eyelids.

“You’re goddamn right, I do.” Chloe slapped the table and took a swig from a can of root beer soda. She sighed, “ _but…_ my stupid ass got detention for tonight, so we’ll have to move it to tomorrow.”

“You got detention?”

“Yeah, some asswipe in honors geometry said it woulda been funnier if you died, so I told him I’d shove my foot up his ass if he kept talking.”

Rachel gave a soft hum of approval and bit the edge of a french-fry stolen from Chloe’s tray. Chloe playfully slapped Rachel’s wandering hand away.

“It was fucking Nathan, wasn’t it?”

Chloe and Rachel both gave her a synchronized nod, chewing on french-fries.

“ _Well,_ you’re officially an accidental badass, Max. Which means we got to get you ready for the big leagues. So what do you say? You, me, Chlo go shooting some old shit.” Rachel gave Max a wink.

Max set her sandwich down and looked between her two friends and pondered it. She had only shot the stolen pistol a few times with them, finding it a bit too much to handle. Chloe did it the most. Eventually Rachel became a pretty decent shot too after hanging out with Chloe in the junkyard so much, probably flirting or doing whatever they did when they were alone together when Max and Murphy weren’t around. 

“I’d love to go shoot broken things in the junkyard with you guys, but I’ve got an appointment with Dr. Thurman tomorrow night. Murphy’s taking me.”

“Come on, you can squeeze in an hour or two to celebrate with us before spilling your guts out to the analysis lady,” Chloe pleaded.

Max felt someone watching her and she glanced upwards beyond the silhouettes of Rachel and Chloe to see Victoria Chase eyeing her from a table nearby. Victoria’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink before she scrambled to look immersed in whatever the hell Nathan Prescott was babbling about at her table.

Rachel looked between Max and where she was staring and leaned forward over the table.

“Somebody has eyes for the hot new girl, huh?” Rachel toyed, her earring dancing against her jawline.

Max peeled her eyes away and onto the face of Rachel. She felt her ears grow hot.

“I don’t even know her,” Max stammered, picking up her sandwich and biting into it again.

Chloe plastered on a smug, excited grin. “Doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to _know you_. If you get my drift.”

Max picked up a wilted piece of celery from her plate and threw it at her chuckling best friend. Chloe, however, caught it with ease and took a haughty bite out of it. She chewed thoughtfully.

“So…” Chloe shot a look at Rachel before dropping her voice, “you went walking again last night, didn’t you? You crazy, lucky son-of-a-bitch!”

“Lucky? Lisa plant got smushed under chunks of lighthouse. Don’t even mention my camera, that shit is in 100 pieces.”

Max was allowed to take one look around her destroyed dorm room after she was forced to sign some papers. Not much was salvageable other than her trusty messenger bag, but everything else was pretty much being hauled into a giant, secretive dumpster in the back of campus. Max managed to save a few polaroid photos at least. She tried not to get too upset about it.

_After seeing my crushed-up room, I’m thinking that bunny did pull me out of there at the right time. What else could be the explanation?_

Rachel and Chloe had their attention pulled away from Max when footsteps approached the table. Chloe gave Rachel a noticeable elbowing to the ribs, her mouth pulled into a knowing, crooked grin.

Max turned her head and looked up to see what grabbed their attention like that. Members of the Vortex Club loudly passed by through the exit doors of the cafeteria, but one person from their table stayed behind.

“Hi, Victoria,” Max breathed, almost shyly.

The blonde looked like she was suddenly scrambling for words. “Hey, Max…”

Chloe raised her brows, eager to watch the exchange between the two.

Victoria ignored Chloe’s overt staring and cleared her throat, settling herself. “I’m really sorry to hear about what happened with your room. It was scary as shit for all of us because we heard it and felt the building shake, but I can’t imagine how you’re feeling about it.”

Max licked her lips, thinking of a reply.

“Oh. Yeah, it’s pretty scary.” Max’s eyes flickered to Chloe’s for help.

“Poor Maxaroni lost her old ass camera in the tragic accident. Isn’t that sad, Victoria? You’re supposed to be really fucking good at photography, maybe you can help her…sometime.”

_Jesus Christ, really Chloe?_

Max gave Chloe a murderous, quick look. Rachel being Rachel, spoke up.

“We’re all just really happy our Super Max is okay. She’s too special to lose.”

Rachel gave Victoria a sweet smile before reaching out and giving Max’s tense fist a squeeze.

“I’d agree with that.” Victoria’s lips pulled into a tight grin as she eyed their hands.

Max glanced back up at the ethereal blonde in surprise.

Victoria locked eyes with Max, her face relaxing. “And if _Max_ wants any photo help, amongst other things, all she’ll have to do is walk across the hall and knock on my door.”

Chloe choked on another swig of root beer and let out a subdued squealing noise.

_If a lighthouse won’t be the death of me, Chloe sure as hell will._

Max replayed what Victoria had said about ten times in her head before responding. She had no idea where Victoria’s room even was.

“Wait. Across the hall? What do you mean?” Max asked quizzically with a hint of embarrassment and fluster from the _other_ things Victoria said.

“They didn’t tell you? They’re moving you into that empty room across from mine on the second floor. It seems like they’re working to put it together as if their lives depended on it.”

“Oh, this keeps getting _better_ ,” Chloe wheezed, not as quietly as she thought she did.

Max caught Rachel giving Chloe’s vibrating frame a settle by holding her hand. Chloe relaxed and sat back into her chair, knowing her girlfriend was telling her to back off.

_Thank god for Rachel Amber._

“You’ll be in 219 across from me, I guess. It’s weird that nobody told you that.”

Max couldn’t exactly just tell Victoria that she was forced to sign the FBI’s NDA about the whole thing and that they had been extra secretive in telling her things.

She gave the blonde a soft, white-toothed smile. “Well…you’ve told me. So now I know where to find you.”

Chloe’s eyes eagerly bounced between Max and the gorgeous new girl hovering near the table. Maybe it was Chloe’s eager energy, or the weird vibrato Max felt bubbling to the surface due to the knowledge that Victoria had come up to her first, but Max knew what to say.

Max lowered her voice, “In case you tried to be a mysterious stranger.”

Victoria attempted to hold back a sudden, pleased grin.

“I think we’d all agree on you being the _mysterious_ one.”

Chloe crinkled her root beer can in her hand that was unoccupied with Rachel’s. She was probably trying to suppress any final outward reactions to the whole interaction.

_Me fucking too, Chloe._

Victoria’s demeanor opened and changed and she turned to face the other girls at the table with a solid, casual face.

“Nice to meet you guys…?”

Chloe sat up straight in her chair, dropped her root beer can and held out the free hand for Victoria to shake.

“ _I’m_ Chloe Price,” she said smoothly.

_Of course she says it all smug and smooth like the lady-killer she is._

Rachel gave her a friendly smile and shook Victoria’s hand a bit more gently than Chloe did.

“I’m Rachel Amber. Sorry about my girlfriend, she just gets easily excited like a Pitbull puppy when she meets new people.”

Victoria raised her brow in light of this information. A look of interest spread along her face and she seemed to be debating on whether to say anything to that.

“I wondered who this AmberPrice couple was.” Victoria added on when she caught Rachel’s face brighten with wonder. “You guys must be kind of cool. People either talk about the Vortex Club or the four of you.”

Max shuffled a few thoughts across her face before speaking up. “Four?”

_Was she included in this cool group?_

Chloe gave Max a warning look.

_Yeah, I won’t screw this up, Chloe…relax._

Victoria furrowed her brow and let out a small scoff. “Yeah. Like Murphy and you three. You guys are like the cool, artsy, rebel kids on campus.”

Max was _about_ to tell Victoria that her brother Murphy wasn’t exactly artsy and that she wasn’t exactly _cool_ or that _rebellious_ when she felt a blow to her shins due to a kick from a very particular boot across the table.

“ _Fuck!_ ”

Victoria gave Max a worried look when she cried out.

“ _Fuck_ …I’m so…glad you came over here and talked to us.” Max mumbled out, watching Chloe’s supportive nods. She attempted to hide her wincing.

Victoria let out a feminine laugh. Max could listen to it all day.

“I’m glad too. See ya ‘round, _Super Max_.”

The table was thankfully quiet until the door shut behind Victoria’s leaving and sauntering frame. As soon as it latched close, Chloe slammed her palm on the table and whirled around to Max.

“ _HOLY SHIT, dude_ ,” she whined. “How did you get the new hot chick on campus to get interested in you? I mean you’re fucking awesome and everything, but damn, Mad Max!”

Rachel gave Chloe something very much like a stink-eye. Chloe caught Rachel glaring at her and she switched modes again.

“Oh, well, you’re absolutely the hottest girl on campus, baby. But that girl is right up Maxie’s alley. I’m speaking from her perspective.” Chloe placed a sly kiss to the back of Rachel’s hand and it seemed to relax her.

Max snorted, “Can you please _stop_ speaking from my perspective, Chloe? So maybe I can get a few words in?”

Chloe wheeled back in on Max.  “You were about to tell the starry-eyed new chick that you were uncool.”

“Well, it’s not a lie, _Chloe_!”

Chloe sighed, dragging a hand down her face in playful exhaustion. “Listen. The _new hot girl_ told you to stop by her room whenever you wanted.”

Max scrunched her face, “No, she _didn’t_.”

“Well, she kind of did, Max,” Rachel agreed, giving Max an apologetic smile for agreeing with Chloe.

_If anyone knows why people do what they do, it’s Rachel._

Max’s heartbeat quickened in her chest.

_Well, I guess she did then._

“And we are…kind of cool. You just stay so hidden and suppressed that you don’t realize it.” Rachel offered her upon seeing Max’s incredulous face.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Max breathed, her eyes locked to where she watched Victoria exit minutes before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!
> 
> Hope you guys liked chapter 2. Hope everyone is having a good weekend! Leave anything below! Who likes the uniform aesthetic for these guys? l o l


	3. October 3rd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has unrequited feelings for each other (as usual). The gang goes to the junkyard and Max speaks with her therapist about this particular vision of the giant bunny.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, here is chapter three! This won't be as regular of an update like Strange Love, so keep an eye out for the new chapters here. Adding a bookmark might help.
> 
> TW: Gun use, drug use/mention.
> 
> Enjoy!! Leave some fruitcake in my comment box.

**OCTOBER 3rd**

 

* * *

 

 

Max held a burning cigarette between her fingers, sitting on the top of a picnic table looking out on the green space at Blackwell Academy. She rested both elbows on her kneecaps and listened to her group of friends chat around her. Max enjoyed when she could sit back and analyze the students all going through their daily lives. She very much enjoyed the wallflower life.

Max didn’t usually smoke, but she was a little nervous about her meeting with Dr. Thurman in a few hours. Plus, Chloe had just lit one and handed it over to Max in the middle of telling a story about her threatening to kick Nathan’s ass yesterday and how boring her detention was. Chloe could tell from Max’s bouncing knees that she was anxious, so she took a drag and passed it over.

The last class of the day had just ended and students clad in navy were gathering in the student green to hang out in the last bits of warm, fall sun.

“And _then_ she made me write ‘ _I will not threaten other students_ ’ on the chalkboard like 100 times! My hand was shaking after that bullshit.” Chloe finished dramatically.

Steph scoffed and rolled her eyes, “She’s just a homophobe. She caught those two guys in the hallway once and they were kicked out of school.”

“She’s not a homophobe, she’s just an asshole. Plus, those kids got kicked out for stealing people’s shit, not being gay. I mean, Chloe and I kiss all the time and we’re still here.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Steph agreed, mostly convinced.

A carrying, feminine laugh caught Max’s attention and she looked near the Blackwell statue. A shiny, pixie cut bobbed between a few heads. Max furrowed her brow and dissected the group of people around Victoria, not necessarily feeling thrilled with the people who were making her laugh like that.

“Speak of the rich ass devil,” Chloe grunted as everyone’s attention was fixed on the group near the statue. Her eyes burned into the figure of Nathan Prescott.

“Who is _that_?” Steph questioned, upon catching a glimpse of the pretty blonde. “And do we know what team she plays for? Just for my own notes.”

“Nathan _Prescrotch’s_ friend…” she spitted. Chloe waggled a brow up at Max, “ _and_ Max’s little girlfriend.”

Max reached down to smack the beanie off Chloe’s head. Chloe avoided Max’s move and pulled herself up to sit next to Max on the top of the picnic table.

Steph squinted, “No way. Max, are you going with that Victoria girl?”

“Going? To where?” she asked confused.

Rachel swung her leg over the bench of the picnic table and laughed.

Chloe chimed in, “Alright. So I’m kind of stretching everyone’s imaginations with the whole ‘girlfriend’ thing, but I totally feel that if Max asked the girl to go with her, Vicky would probably say yes.”

Rachel sighed, “Baby, didn’t we talk about the giving people nicknames thing?”

“People _love_ the nicknames I give them.” Chloe pouted, crossing her arms across her chest.

Steph gave Chloe a dirty glare and Chloe threw her hands up in defeat.

_Steph does not have a flattering nickname._

A bouncing head of familiar curly, brown hair bobbed over the heads of students and Max felt her nerves creep up again. There Murphy was, stopping every few feet to chat and smile at people who wanted to be around him. She felt guilty that her brother had to take some nights out of his week to take her to therapy. She glanced down at the cigarette between her fingers and she pulled in a deep drag.

This time she didn’t cough.

Victoria turned her head then and looked over at her group of friends at the picnic table. Max felt self-conscious about her hair, so she ran a hand through it, exhaling a foggy cloud as she did so.

“Max, she’s looking at you. _Quick!_ Do something hot.” Chloe whispered through gritted teeth, attempting to act casual.

“Like _what_?” Max snapped.

“That smoking thing and the hair fix you did was hot, do that again. I fucking fall for it every time, just ask that one.” Rachel giggled in a sing-song voice, gesturing to Chloe.

Victoria looked away and spoke to Nathan again. As he animatedly talked back with her, she kept stealing small glances in Max’s direction.

“Do it! It’s a test.” Steph edged her on.

“This is ridiculous,” Max mumbled as she complied with their demand.

Sure enough, Max repeated her earlier movements and Victoria’s reaction was quite pleasing.

“Oh, la la. You got back a lip bite,” Rachel cooed close to Max’s ear.

Max raised both her hands into a shrug, “Okay, that,” Max exaggerated an awkward biting of her lower lip to the group, “is not a ‘lip bite’. It’s just something people _do_. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Steph sighed dramatically as she dreamily stared across the green towards the smiling and chatting blonde.

“I hate to even say this, but I’m gay as fuck, and that was a ‘ _lip bite_ ’. I’m mad as hell, I wish she sent shit like that in my direction.” Steph huffed and turned away from the group of popular kids, slightly wounded.

Chloe smacked the side of Steph's leg and barked, “It was kind of in your general direction. Over _here-ish_. Just don’t fap to Max’s crush later. That probably breaks the girl code or something.”

Rachel reached a quick arm up and smacked Chloe’s wriggling knee. That gesture caused her to compose herself a fraction.

“Max. _Dude_ …what the hell is this?” Murphy walked up to the group, his face scrunched in disgust.

“Uh…what?”

“A cigg? Those are nasty, demonic things. You don’t need to be smoking that shit. Don’t get addicted to them like that one over there.” Murphy pointed a finger at Chloe and she retaliated by sticking out her tongue.

“Relax, Murph. She had the nerves about therapy later.”

Murphy gave Max a dumbfounded look. Steph cleared her throat and squinted at the tall boy.

“Aren’t you like... _no offense_ …a drug dealer?” Steph asked carefully.

Murphy’s lashes fluttered for a moment before he figured out what to respond with.

“Yeah, but I’m not a psychopath. Weed is a good thing. Those coffin nails are made by the devil.”

Rachel chuckled, “I thought you guys didn’t believe in that god and devil stuff. Aren’t you Caulfields too educated and pretty to believe in supernatural forces?” Rachel Amber clicked her tongue and gave Murphy a mystical smile.

Murphy’s cheeks blushed a deep red. Max did her best to stifle her laugh at her brother’s got-it-bad reaction for Rachel Amber.

“N—No. I’m just saying.”

“You two are so damned cute, you know that?” Rachel looked between Max and Murphy with a small smile.

Max and Murphy both retaliated to Rachel’s comment with a sibling synced grimace.

“Relax, Murphy. I’m putting it out.” Max sighed. She dabbed the end of the cigarette against the top of the picnic table and slipped the end into her blazer pocket. She wasn’t just going to litter like a Neanderthal.

_Or flick them like Chloe._

Max turned her head and caught sight of a shiny head of hair zipping past the group towards the dorms. The slightly hunched over figure of Kate Marsh swept by, clad in a navy skirt and blazer, her cross swaying as she ducked between the students in her path. The sandy-blonde girl slowed as Max caught her eye. A delicate brushing of red adorned her cheeks as Max gave her a small wave in response.

_I hope she’s doing alright…_

The girl gave Max the tiniest of grins and disappeared out of sight.

\--

“I’m not saying that Jefferson is kind of hot, I’m saying he _is_ hot,” Rachel defended.

The group of four all gathered around a flimsy set-up of trash to shoot at in the junkyard. Three green, mud-caked beer bottles sat on the trunk of a rusted old police vehicle. Chloe grabbed the pistol from Rachel’s careful grip with ease and rolled her eyes.

“You know…?” Chloe held up the pistol and aimed down the black metal with her right eye. “I don’t see what the ladies see in him. I think he is a pretentious fucker underneath the hot, old hipster act.”

_**BANG!** _

Green glass went flying in shards and bounced off the car trunk.

Chloe gave a side-smirk and lowered the pistol to stare at Max who was sketching here and there in her journal.

“Maxie-Pad, you’re bi, can you explain how people find that man, hot?” Chloe scrunched her face in disgust.

“Chloe, just because I’m bi, doesn’t mean I find all men attractive. The only thing I can guess is that he is good as hell at what he does with a camera, so maybe that’s it.”

“Weak sauce answer, Caulfield.” Chloe mumbled, taking another shot at an old computer monitor.

_**BANG!** _

Plastic and glass bounced to the ground.

“Alright. Well, the dude gives _me_ weird vibes. You guys have seen some of his photographs, there’s something about them—they’re plain fucking spooky.” Max answered, this time more honestly.

Chloe clicked on the safety and walked up to where Max perched on the hood of Chloe’s rusted junkyard-recycled truck. The setting sun blazed the blue color in her hair and she almost appeared otherworldly. Chloe held out the pistol to Max with a curious grin. Her school uniform was already dusty and even messier from rolling around in the dirt in a tickle fight with Rachel earlier.

Murphy, beside Max on the hood of the truck, waved a hand around his face to get the dancing gnats away, his nose was shoved deep into some physics book. A curling smoke trail from the joint between his fingers dispersed above his head. He lifted his hand to his mouth and pulled on it with a subtle coolness.

Chloe gently wiggled the grip of the pistol in her face.

“Fine,” Max huffed as Chloe refused to walk away until the pistol was in her palm. The metal gave her hand a chill.

Murphy looked up when Max did a slide off the hood. His brows were furrowed.

“Please, Max…Don’t shoot my car.”

Max rolled her eyes as she started to walk over to where they were shooting targets.

“Max is actually a pretty good shot, Murph, give the girl some credit.” Rachel purred, her legs crossed as her skin soaked in the setting sun’s rays.

“Whatever. And if she shoots out my windshield, _you_ can pay for it, Rach.”

Rachel raised a brow at him, “Well, my daddy’s got money so, no problem.”

The two gave each other a look that made Max uncomfortable before Murphy handed off the cherried joint to the outstretched, slender fingers of Rachel Amber.

Max settled her feet in a sturdy stance and pointed the barrel down at a bottle ahead of her. Max inhaled, feeling the usual nerves she did whenever holding a weapon, and exhaled. Her finger released the safety and she aimed.

_**BANG!** _

A symphony of glass shards bounced around before settling.

“Well, I’ll be damned. That was a good shot,” Murphy bemused behind her.

“Hell, yeah, Mad Max!” Rachel cheered.

Max lowered the weapon and a small, pleased smirk pulled at her lip when Chloe gave a whooping noise.

“Oh, shit. It’s about 6:30. We gotta head out, Max.” Murphy warned.

Max swallowed, still feeling the intense power of the pistol in her grip. Max swiftly applied the safety and turned it to hand it back over to Chloe. The blue haired girl gave her a coy grin, as if she was more than impressed. Her face changed quickly.

“Are you going to tell the wacko doctor about surviving a rogue lighthouse chunk crashing through your room?” She walked towards her truck and opened the passenger door.

“Ugh, probably, if she asks. I don’t want to though. There’s no way she didn’t hear about it on the news.” Max grumbled.

All her friends really knew was that she saw Thurman for her anxiety and depression. Chloe picked up on the fact that Max sometimes saw shit during her episodes. Max couldn’t really lie well when it came to Chloe. One day, when they were young, she had cried and told Chloe everything. Chloe, however, swore a blood oath to Max when they were eleven and promised to never tell anyone about the things Max had seen growing up.

Really, the only people who knew the extent of her mental troubles were herself, Chloe, Dr. Thurman, her parents, and Murphy. Everyone else just thought she was that one weird kid of the Caulfields that walked around in pajamas sometimes.

Chloe tossed open her glove compartment and placed the ‘borrowed’ pistol under a few messy papers. Max had already warned Chloe three times that the glove compartment was a terrible place for a hand pistol. The girl just never seemed to listen.

Rachel pulled herself up from her sunning spot on the patchy grass and stretched. “Okay, if you need to talk about it later, you know where we’ll be.” Rachel grinned, pulling Chloe in for a loud-mouthed kiss. The lit joint forgotten in Rachel’s fingers.

_Yeah, you’ll probably be off fucking each other or something._

“Yeah, fucking annihilating each other at Mario Kart and smoking some of the quarter I picked up from our boy here!” Chloe pulled away from Rachel to smack Murphy’s back roughly.

Murphy slid off the rusty, creaking truck and gave the attractive couple a wide grin.

“You guys will love that shit, I’m telling you. My boss man calls it ‘Cosmic Cake’.”

Murphy was so weird and secretive about most of his dealing. Nobody knew who the hell boss man was, but a few popular theories between the group were Rachel’s mysterious D.A. father or the mayor. Max doubted both of those, but had fun listening to stoned Chloe and Rachel come up with their theories. Murphy didn’t necessarily pry into Max’s private love life, so she didn’t pry into his secretive dealing life. An unspoken, even trade-off.

Max rolled her eyes. “Are we leaving or not, Murphy?”

\--

Murphy oversaw the tunes this time as Max had the power of music play on the way to the junkyard. He selected some relaxing, acoustic band to play in the background. He’d lightly drum his hands against the steering wheel when familiar lyrics came up over the speakers.

“So when those FBI guys pulled you away, what did they tell you?” Murphy asked, turning the radio down a notch.

“I don’t know. Not much, they pretty much just made me sign a bunch of shit that said I promised to cooperate and not say shit about what happened. It was like they had no idea either.” Max replied.

“So you’re not supposed to tell anyone what nobody knows?” Murphy looked puzzled.

Max couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. It really was ridiculous.

“Pretty much.”

Murphy pulled his mouth into a tight line. “They still don’t know where it came from?”

“The lighthouse?”

“Well…yeah,” he scoffed.

Max shrugged her shoulders and pulled her feet onto the dash, staring out the window. Flashes of sunlight between trees and houses flew across her face.

_It was very weird._

Max had woken up there twice the past two times she went nightwalking. Then a piece of the top of the unmistakable Arcadia Bay lighthouse ended up crashing through her dorm ceiling while the same lighthouse overlooking the bay was 100% intact? Not to mention her little silver furred friend that appeared to her. It didn’t make much sense at all. What she knew at the bottom of her gut was that it all had to be related somehow.

_Guess that’s why the FBI was all skeevy about it. A mysterious chunk of lighthouse falling through a girl’s dorm room in the middle of the night with no explanation as to where it physically came from._

“Holy shit, what is _that_?” Murphy asked, looking out of the top part of his windshield.

What could put that weird look on his face? Max pulled her eyes away and looked to where he was staring in awe.

“Is that—snow?” Max breathed. She was positive that it was in the sixties and sunny today.

Murphy gripped the wheel and shot a look at Max. “Was that supposed to be on the forecast for today? I know Oregon weather can be weird, but not this weird.”

“I didn’t hear about it,” she responded.

“That doesn’t make any fucking sense—,”

A shuffling, hunched figure stood in the road directly ahead of them caught her attention. Murphy had to see her.

_Murphy stop the car._

“Murphy.”

“What?”

“ _MURPHY_!”

Murphy slammed on the brakes quickly and the car slowed as the tires wiggled under the gravel road. When it came to a sudden and very jerky halt, Max’s knee collided with her eyeball. Tiny flakes of snow melted against the windshield.

“What is that lady doing standing in the middle of the road like that!” Murphy grunted, his eyes wild with the brush of terror that almost occurred.

Max rubbed her sore and pounding eye while squinting with the other at the figure of the old woman. She looked like she hadn’t really noticed the vehicle stop behind her at all.

Murphy clicked himself out of his seatbelt and threw the car door open. Max followed suit.

She half-jogged up to the hunched woman in dirty, faded clothing.

“Is this the crazy lady who lives by the junkyard?” Murphy called from behind her, hanging back at his running vehicle.

The woman shambled back over to a rusted, beaten mailbox and slowly pulled it open, her blank face peering inside at its empty contents. Max followed her.

_Geez, maybe she is a bit senile._

The woman didn’t seem to notice Max was beside her. The mailbox read:

**R. Sparrow** in faded, crooked letters. Tiny snowflakes drifted and landed on the mailbox.

“No mail today, maybe tomorrow?” she gave the old woman a tiny, encouraging smile.

The woman suddenly seemed to notice the turning of the world around her. Her grey, misty eyes bore directly into Max’s as she leaned closer. Then they weren’t necessarily present at all and Max’s spine shivered.

The woman grabbed Max by the collar of her uniform blazer and whispered into her ear with paper thin, translucent lips.

_What the…what the fuck?_

The woman pulled away after whispering her message and hobbled back toward the mountainy shack she resided in.

Max blinked a few times, attempting to process whatever the hell that just was. A snowflake caught in her dark lashes and she rubbed it away.

“What’d she say to you?” Murphy came up and whispered into her ear, nearly causing her to jump out of her skin.

\--

Dr. Thurman did this really annoying thing where she’d stare at Max, analyzing her face whenever she asked a question. Her pen would be patiently resting against a leather binder, yellow lined pages probably filled with all of Max’s dark secrets, eagerly awaiting the scribbling of Max’s thoughts.

_And whenever I take too long, she does this little, feminine inhale to let me know she’s disappointed._

Their eyes met and Max shifted uncomfortably.

“Uh, I met a new friend.”

She figured if anyone could give her insight on this demented bunny man, it’d be Dr. Thurman. Max knew what the list of diagnoses were from her doctor and she knew what the things on the list made her see and do. Max figured that there wasn’t really anybody else to talk to or ask about it.

She feared her friends would look at her differently, or that Murphy would become even more suffocating about her safety. So she eased into it as best she could in the posh office space.

Dr. Thurman glanced down at her notebook before looking back up at Max, folding her hands into her lap.

“Real or imaginary?” she asked, without much judgement, thankfully.

Max blinked, her face falling slightly. “Imaginary.”

She inhaled again, “Would you like to talk about this friend…?”

“Frank,” Max offered.

“ _Frank_. Do you want to talk about Frank?”

Max bit her lip and looked away. Dr. Thurman had been her psychologist since she started seeing these ‘friends’ pop up when she was younger. Thurman had papers so far back on her, probably all the way to her first boogey-man sighting when she was seven. After the boogey-man, it was other odd, unexplainable things that would visit Max here and there during her nightwalks. They always glowed or bubbled the air around them.

They also talked to her sometimes. Told her things she didn’t want to know. Sometimes, she would wake up and remember everything. Sometimes, it took a bit of time and psychology analysis with Thurman to bring them to the surface of her memory. Thurman assured her years ago that people with her conditions had similar experiences, so somewhere out there were other sad fucks seeing demented faces beckoning to them in the middle of the night.

It gave her comfort, as sick as that was.

Max however, wasn’t so sure about Frank Bunny. He was eerie. He was weird. Though he did pull her out of her dorm at the right time, so maybe Frank really was her friend.

“What did Frank say, Max?”

Max already knew how insane she was going to sound and she knew how Thurman would write about it in her file, but she needed to get the whole meeting Frank thing off her chest and have somebody else tell her how to handle it.

“What did he tell you, Max?” she asked again when Max failed to answer.

“He said to follow him.”

“To where?” Thurman asked with a calm voice.

“Into the future.” Max pulled a rogue fuzz from her navy khakis.

“Then what happened?” she waited patiently for Max to find her grounding.

Max shook her head, already knowing how ridiculous she was probably going to sound, and opened her mouth.

“He said…and _then_ he said…that the world was coming to an end.” Max trailed off with an insecure scoff.

Thurman leaned forward a fraction of an inch. “Do you think that the world is coming to an end?”

With the way her psychiatrist’s lips pursed into a thin line and how she scribbled something into Max’s file, Max knew that she couldn’t really say anything more to incriminate herself. Max also didn’t want her parents getting a call from Thurman’s office to unnecessarily rile them up about Max’s worsening condition.

“N—No, that’s _stupid_ ,” Max lied with a lopsided grimace.

Thurman took a long glance at Max and scribbled into her file again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love writing the group just hanging out doing risky, regular teenager stuff in their junkyard. We just want them all together, okay?
> 
> Thanks for the comments and replies. Keep them coming.
> 
> Anyone have any cool holiday traditions/plans? What's yours?
> 
> Gotta Blaze,  
> Cas


	4. October 5th

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Max and Chloe get sent to the principal's office due to a little in class hostility during a lesson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Howdy!
> 
> Sorry it's been over a month. I was focusing most of my writing efforts on Strange Love (which if you haven't read it, please do!).
> 
> I had this chapter marinating in the document so I thought I'd post it. 
> 
> Please leave thoughts, questions, comments, your favorite movie, whatever below!
> 
> TW: Language, drug reference, the usual.

**OCTOBER 5th**

* * *

 

Max was in P.E. class.

_The actual worst fucking class ever._

Max Caulfield didn’t exactly hate sports or exercise at all. She and Murphy could be found playing basketball sometimes during the summer. Or throwing a softball back and forth with Chloe on the green during fall evenings. Or biking with Murphy.

No, Max didn’t have a problem with any of those things at all. She _liked_ them. She was alright at them. Sweating and dirty, she was fine with that. She wouldn’t call herself a sissy.

_Physical education is fine but—_

What she found was the fucking worst thing about this class was Kitty _fucking_ Farmer.

An infuriating pile of a woman who turned the ‘fun, I guess’ gym class into Max’s worst living nightmare.

_And I know about nightmares!_

She currently stood at the front of the class in a weird matching blue sweat suit, which was ironic as the class never got physical at all. Kitty’s smile spread as she looked over all the students sitting in their tiny plastic chairs on the floor of the gymnasium.

The woman assumed the role of Mark Jefferson’s personal groupie as of lately. She was a self-involved PTA mother who wormed her way into the substitute Physical Education teacher role with the help of the Prescotts. Similarly, the same way Mark Jefferson ended up teaching at Blackwell Academy.

The woman would find a new inspirational boring white guy to talk about every few weeks. Ever since Mark Jefferson started releasing some photography and self-help books about success, Kitty Farmer, PE sub, had been trying to turn more and more classes into being about Mark Jefferson as of recently. Lucky for Max and her fellow classmates, this week and maybe even the oncoming weeks looked like they would turn out to be about the famous photographer.

_I’m sure Chloe will love that._

“So we’re going to be watching an unreleased video that Mark had just finished filming last month. It’s a self-help video from Mark Jefferson’s _To Finding Success in Art and Life: Defeating Fear_.” Kitty wriggled out her chin like an old cat and continued, “You all should be thankful to be given the opportunity to be an audience to this video before it sells on the market.”

Behind her, she heard a rough scoff.

_Chloe’s obviously pleased._

Max suppressed her grin when Kitty flicked her head to stare murderously at Max.

“Do you think something is _displeasing_ , Miss Caulfield?” Kitty pointedly glared.

Suddenly the energy of the room changed and students moved their attention onto Max.

Max raised her brows and shook her head. She heard Chloe’s chair groan against the floor behind her. “No. No. Nothing is displeasing.”

_Kitty purposefully moved Chloe away from me and Kitty’s still gunning for me._

The faux PE instructor gave Max one last, long glare before snapping her head upward and grinning forcibly at the class. Max lowered herself into the chair a fraction.

“So, let’s begin and if anyone decides to have side conversations, they will be sent to Principal Wells and can side chat there with him in the office.”

The skinny shell of a woman rolled over an old television set strapped to a cart and she flipped on the old screen. It buzzed and argued, but finally snapped on to a paused image of Mark Jefferson, clad in his most expensive glasses. A few girls in the classroom began to murmur excitedly, as they all fell under his hot old guy spell.

It began playing and Max dreaded seeing the length of the video when Kitty tapped the space bar on the school laptop.

_Twenty minutes?_

Mark Jefferson’s face in a close up gave the camera an easy-eyed smile.

“How do we defeat fear? What is the opposite of fear? Is it _love_? Or something else entirely—,”

Max rested her chin in her palm and sighed, preparing herself for the next twenty minutes. Even on video, Mark Jefferson did manage to come off cool and knowledgeable. He rambled on about the scale of human emotion and where certain things landed on a spectrum. He described fear as being a locked gate to reaching an artist’s full spectrum of creation.

Throughout the video, as most of the class was dreary-eyed and yawning, Max snapped her head up, attempting to look invested. She knew Kitty loved singling her out. She wasn’t going to give her something to bitch about.

Jefferson’s voice wafted through the air, “The way a mother with her young, nervous son could believe that it is _normal_ for a thirteen-year-old to wet the bed—.”

The short-lived laugh of Chloe bubbled up from behind Max. Kitty snapped her head over and raised a murderous brow at Chloe.

“What does that thirteen-year-old boy need to do? _Defeat fear_. He must tell himself, that he is not _afraid anymore_. It can be controlled. Our human feelings, our emotions—they must be our dancing marionettes. You are the puppeteers. Do not let the puppets tangle your strings.”

Max froze her would-be eye roll when Kitty’s beady eyes scanned the room of students. For the next twenty minutes, Max prickled as the last of the video ended on Jefferson’s bearded face as he held a camera over a peaceful looking, serene sprawling landscape.

“Your personality dilemmas do not define you. Go out and defeat your fear. Replace it with the love of craft, whatever yours may be. Replace it with love. You’ll find defeating fear is worth taking the shot.”

Credits began to roll and Kitty snapped off the television set. She rolled it away and the class began to gain energy again, glad that the lecturing video was over. Even the giggling girls from earlier seemed a bit bored. There were only so many self-help videos a class of teenagers could take after all.

“Now, we will be doing a little exercise that I whipped up based off Mark Jefferson’s self-help guide. He spoke on personality dilemmas, so what we will be doing is figuring out where certain dilemmas land on a scale. Many of you will find that you may have one of these dilemmas yourself.” Kitty proudly puffed out her chest.

More than anything, Max wanted to be anywhere else. Kitty always had some weird lesson planned after a self-help video. Some of the time they were lucky enough to break off into groups, chat and blow off her ridiculous assignments until the last second. Not this time, she realized, as Kitty pulled a chalkboard onto the basketball court. A useless, nearly unused coach whistle swung from her neck.

_Unless she’s using the whistle against Chloe._

“As you can see, this line is divided into two polar extremes. Fear and Love. Fear is in the negative energy spectrum and love is in the positive energy spectrum.”

“No, duh,” Chloe quietly retorted.

Kitty straightened her posture and rubbed her hands together, entirely displeased.

“Excuse me, ‘no, duh’ is a product of _fear_ ,” Kitty waggled a finger at Chloe as the class ruffled around them.

A few students stifled their chuckles as Kitty turned quickly on her heel and grabbed a stack of childish looking notecards with clip art on them. She turned back around with a gleeful smile.

“Here are some personality dilemmas, or personality positive traits. These all apply to the life line. Please…” Kitty shoved one into Max’s hands as she continued to the other students, “Take a card… Pl- _Please_ —,”

Max turned her head and saw Nathan Prescott stare up at Kitty from his seat, his legs sprawled out in front of him, looking disgusted. Victoria sat on one side of him, bored. Nathan didn’t seem to want to take a card.

_She probably won’t say shit or send him to the office for it._

Kitty seemed to give up, or assume better than to force a Prescott to do anything, and moved on to handing a card to Victoria. As Kitty passed her, Victoria looked to the front of the room and made eye contact with Max, who was unfortunately bound to the very first row.

Max gave Victoria a tiny smile. The corner of the blonde’s glossed lip pulled into a side grin and she darted her eyes down to the card. Nathan looked over then and caught sight of Max smiling weirdly in his direction. He frowned and lifted a lazy middle finger. Breaking into a devilish smile, he obnoxiously chewed his gum and gave her a wink.

_What the fuck was that?_

Turning around quickly to avoid having any more disturbing eye contact with Nathan, her eyes were met with the torso of Kitty’s weird sweater.

_I fucking hate the first row, ugh._

“I want you all to come up here and read the dilemma out loud and put an ‘x’ on the appropriate place on the line between Fear and Love.” Kitty gave the class a pleased smile and her eyes scanned the room for her first victim. Everyone seemed to shrink down into their seats except for one student.

Kitty locked eyes with the quiet, honey-blonde haired girl beside Max in the front row.

“Ah. Kate Marsh. Come on up for the exercise,” Kitty stepped aside almost ceremoniously as Kate slowly stepped up to the front of the room.

Kate was too nice of a person to ever give any teachers any issues, ever. Max knew this. She felt bad for the girl. Max could tell that Kate didn’t enjoy speaking in front of the entire class, let alone stand in front and be called on first.

Kate cleared her soft voice and spoke, “Juanita has an important math test today. She has known about the test for weeks, but has not studied.”

Kitty mouthed the words from behind Kate, obviously impressed with her own scenario cards.

A harsh giggle from the back of the room was heard and Max identified it as belonging to Nathan.

_Leave Kate alone._

“In order for her to keep from failing the class, Juanita decides to cheat on the math test.” Kate finished a bit shakily.

“Now, where does that go on the line, Kate?” Kitty asked in a slow voice.

Kate looked up from her card at Max. Her face looked pale. Max gave her an encouraging smile and the girl shyly looked away. She flickered her gaze to Kitty and turned to grab a piece of chalk. Softly marking an ‘x’ on the end of the line near Fear, she rushed back to her seat beside Max, doing her best to appear small.

“Good! Good. Very good. Okay,” her eyes scanned the avoiding eyes of the class again. “How about Miss Price. I’d be fascinated to see where you place your moral dilemma on our line.”

Chloe sighed loudly from behind.

“Do I have to?” Chloe grumbled.

Kitty lowered her eyes, “Yes. Unless you want to visit Principal Wells.”

Chloe slammed her boot on the floor and loudly stood up, making her usual scene. Upon walking to the front of the room, Chloe bumped her hip forcefully into Max’s shoulder on purpose. This comedic genius of a move caused a few students to chuckle. Kitty didn’t notice and stood waiting for Chloe to make her way up. Of course, Chloe made it a slow progress to anger the woman.

“Go on,” Kitty edged Chloe.

Chloe stood much taller than Kitty, yet she slouched coolly at the front of the class and sighed again.

“Jose sees his friend Miguel buy some illegal drugs one night on the way home from practice. Instead of turning his friend in, he tries a hit of illegal drugs.” Chloe stared at the card and looked through her fringe of bangs at Max. A coy look played on her face.

“No offense, Ms. Farmer, but nobody says ‘he tries a hit of illegal drugs’. What is he hitting? Mary Jane? Crack? Keyboard cleaner? Well, I guess keyboard cleaner is legal to buy, but still—,”

“Miss Price. It isn’t that complicated. Mark an ‘x’ on the chalkboard on the line.” Kitty’s cheeks were slowly turning red from annoyance.

“Well, we don’t know what he was hitting!”

“ _Chloe_.”

“Oh, my _god_. Fine. You’d probably want me to mark an ‘x’ here,” Chloe huffed and whirled around, marking an ‘x’ semi-closer to Fear than Love on the chalkboard line. It was so close to the center that Kitty looked like she wanted to yell.

“You all need to take this exercise seriously, it can help us all. Do not be like Miss Price.”

“Funny, that’s what everyone says,” Chloe hit back. The students shifted and chuckled again around the room.

Kitty closed her eyes, inhaled, and opened them again, ready to pick another student. Max shifted even lower in her plastic school chair, if that was even possible, and her movement caught Kitty’s eye. A pleased look took over the woman’s face.

“Ah, yes. Let’s have the other half of the class clown duo complete the exercise. Miss Caulfield, if you will.”

_Class clown?_

Max had only said a few unneeded comments in this class the entire year and now she was the other half of Chloe’s class clown group?

Doing the only thing she could, she stood up, unenthused. Shuffling to the board, she avoided Kitty’s piercing eye. Max, feeling a little nervous and weird about being in the front, reading off a card, she cleared her throat. She reached up and loosened her navy tie around her neck.

“Ling-Ling finds a wallet on the ground filled with money. She takes the wallet to the address on the driver’s license, but keeps all the money from inside the wallet.”

_This is the stupidest exercise we’ve ever done._

Kitty stood there, giving Max weird, forceful looks to participate correctly in the exercise.

Max stared at the clip art on the card and inadvertently scoffed. “I’m—I’m sorry, Ms. Farmer, but I don’t get this. I don’t really think that this is what Jefferson was talking about.”

Lowering her brows dangerously, she responded. “It is simple Miss Caulfield. Mark an ‘x’ on the line to where the personality dilemma fits. Fear or Love. Go on.”

The class shifted again in their seats, enamored by Max’s subtle defiance. If Max was honest, she truly wasn’t in the mood.

“Yeah, no… I understand what to do, but I just don’t get this.”

At the back of the room, Victoria tilted her head and observed Max. A girl with a brunette bob, Max believed her name to be Courtney, leaned over and whispered something into Victoria’s ear while holding eye contact with Max. Unfortunately, Max felt her cheeks warm slightly. Everyone was staring at her.

Max searched the room and locked eyes with Chloe who sat beside Rachel, who had stopped filing her nails at the new development at the front of the room. Something was finally interesting enough in this class for Rachel Amber. Chloe raised her brows excitedly and nodded her head for Max to continue down this disastrous path.

_Oh, don’t encourage me, Chloe._

Kitty huffed beside Max and tapped the board with a painted nail.

“Max Caulfield, please.”

“Yes, I know _what_ to do.” Max flicked her card with a finger and raised it to Kitty. “You can’t just lump things into two categories, it’s not that simple. _Life_ isn’t that simple.”

Kitty gave Max a dumbfounded look and held out a piece of chalk for Max to take.

“Well the _line_ is divided between two _simple_ concepts, Miss Caulfield. What are you not understanding? Is Fear and Love too complicated of a concept to distinguish between for you?”

_Well, alright then, Kitty Farmer._

Max inhaled shortly and turned to face Kitty. “Well, _life_ isn’t that simple. I mean, let's say the wallet belongs to a billionaire profiting off the work of the poor and what if Ling-Ling’s mother has cancer and they need the money to pay for the medicines to keep her alive? Or I don’t know, countless other reasons for their motivation. I mean who cares if Ling-Ling returns the wallet and keeps the money, it has nothing to do with either Fear or _Love_.”

Looking slightly floundered, Kitty swallowed and spoke. “Fear and Love are the two biggest and greatest of human emotions. Jefferson said so.”

Max lowered her arms and sighed, “Okay. You’re not listening to me. A lot of things need to be taken into account here, like the whole _spectrum_ of human emotion. You can’t just lump everything into these two categories and just deny everything else.”

Max realized her voice had risen and Kitty stuck her chin upward and glared at Max.

“If you don’t complete the exercise you’ll get a _zero_ for participation today. If you’re not on par with this intelligent conversation, Miss Caulfield, then take your zero and sit down.” The woman’s voice was nearly quaking.

Max felt the eyes of her classmates burn into the side of her face. A bubbling of frustration was building, Max could feel it. She frowned heavily, thinking, considering, whether she should say any of the things she was currently thinking. Chloe stood up from her small plastic chair and crossed her arms.

“Max makes sense. This Fear and Love crap is too simplified. I want to change my answer! I mean, maybe Jose and Miguel like to smoke weed. Who cares, it’s legal anyway.”

“Price, silence. Caulfield, complete the exercise or—,”

_Max, don’t say it. Don’t say it…_

Bubbles of anger filled her gut, she blinked a few times, and pointed the card at Kitty, who shot back a defiant, angry look.

_Okay, I’m going to say it._

Inhaling deeply, so opened her mouth to let her final thoughts spew out.

However, Chloe seemed to jump on interrupting the woman before Max could.

\--

Max didn’t necessarily expect to spend her entire afternoon in Principal Wells’ office, but she couldn’t say she didn’t really see it coming. She sat in a chair beside her blue haired best friend as Principal Wells scanned over both of their student files at his luxurious desk before them.

“ _Maxine_ , I’m going to preface this by saying that your artistic talents are intimidating. I’m slightly shocked to see you here in my office for these types of behavioral issues.” He sighed and lifted a page in Max’s student file to read. “I mean a few comments here and there about classroom debates, but nothing like this.” He eyed up Chloe suspiciously and brought his attention back to Max, “So please… Let’s just,” he rubbed his temple and leaned back in his chair, “Let’s just go over this one more time. What exactly did you both say to Ms. Farmer.”

“I’ll tell you what they said!” A quivering voice cried out.

Kitty bristled behind Principal Wells and leaned forward, feeling obviously, very wounded.

“They told me to forcibly insert the life line exercise into my _anus!_ ” she wailed.

Chloe lurched forward in the office chair with a stifled laugh. Max bit her lower lip and attempted to look like she was ignoring Chloe in the chair beside her.

Principal Wells turned his office chair to take a weary peak at Kitty Farmer.

“Max Caulfield said this?” he asked, suspicious.

Kitty frowned heavily, “Well… _not exactly_. Her and Price are always saying some type of awful comments in my class. Miss _Price_ was the one who wanted me to forcibly—,”

Principal Wells held up a hand to silence Kitty. “Ms. Farmer, please we don’t need to hear you repeat that again. One time was enough.” He turned back to face the two girls and sighed. “Chloe. I can’t say I’m surprised you were the one to say this. I’ll be contacting your mother shortly. Max, I’m sorry to see you here in my office, but I have to let you know that your parents will be contacted as well.”

Chloe shrugged in the chair beside Max. “Whatever, Principal Wells. Can we go now?”

Wells gave Chloe a long, solid look before lazily waving his hand. “All after school activities will be suspended for you both. No dances, no sports, no theatre, no assemblies until I say so. I need to speak to Miss Caulfield alone please.”

Max looked to Chloe, confused. She shook her head and gave Max a wave before slipping out the door ahead of Kitty Farmer. Once the door latched closed and it was just Max and Wells, he rubbed his temples again and leaned back into his chair.

“Now, Max. I know you are good friends with Chloe, but you need to be careful. She can be a troublemaker and you have a really great chance at being recognized by top art colleges if you keep your head on straight.”

Max fiddled with the strap of her messenger bag and nodded. She didn’t really want to be in the office any longer than she already had been. She knew people liked to talk to hear themselves talk.

“I know you’ve been going through a lot ever since the accident with your dorm room a few days ago, but I’m just warning you to be careful about your behavior.” He closed her student file and she felt a surge of relief. It meant she could go soon.

“I didn’t mean for it to…get out of hand in class today. It just kind of happened,” Max earnestly replied. “Sometimes, she says outlandish things—never mind, it’s not important. I’m sorry.”

Wells seemed to consider this and gave a short nod. “How is your new room treating you? We know that a lot of your personal items were lost and I’m sorry about that, but I wanted to let you know that the authorities and the school are working on sending a check for the value of your belongings.”

Max didn’t really care about any of this. She only felt a deep connection with only a very few of her personal belongings, most of them being polaroid photos, her journal, or camera.

“My new room is fine, thanks. And I hear what you are saying, Principal Wells. Can I go now?” she asked gently, giving Wells an innocent raise of the brow.

Wells gave her a look, decided against speaking again, and nodded.

Max grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

\--

“Hey, there neighbor,” a voice muffled through earphones greeted her.

Max was walking, head down, through the girl’s dormitory hallway to her new room on the second floor. She stopped in her tracks upon hearing the feminine voice.

“What?” Max asked, pulling an earbud from her right ear. Music pulsated from the bud as it dangled on her shoulder.

Victoria stood ahead of her, clutching a few books. She looked nice, make-up done, not a strand of hair out of place. Luckily, she was alone and no Vortex Club members were hanging around her.

“Oh,” Max breathed. “Hey, Victoria.”

Raising a perfect, groomed eyebrow, she looked Max up and down. Max held her breath, feeling rather self-conscious in her wrinkled baggy blazer and askew tie.

“So you’ve got a bad side, huh?” she looked slightly pleased.

_Be cool, Max._

“Uh, well, I guess so. Got banned from all after school activities. No assemblies. No dances. No sports… even though I don’t play here anyway, so that’s not a big deal.” Max added a casual shrug for measure. She rung the strap of her messenger bad anxiously.

Victoria lowered her eyes and caught Max’s hesitant gaze. She pulled her glossy lips into a cat-like grin and clicked her tongue.

“You’re cute, Max Caulfield,” her voice coy.

Max widened her eyes and bit her lower lip, cheeks pink, as Victoria sauntered along down the hall. Turning her head over her shoulder, she watched Victoria leave.

_Don’t look at her ass!_

_Don’t do it Maxie._

_Oh? Oh…_

A door opened down the hall and Max turned around as if she was caught staring at the girl walking away. Her cheeks grew warmer as she saw a honey-blonde head of hair peek out of a doorway one door away.

“Hey, Kate,” Max gave a small wave.

Kate gave her a soft smile.

“Oh…Uhm, hi, Max. Sorry you had to see the principal.” She nearly stuttered.

Max shrugged, not wanting Kate to worry about her.

“It’s fine. Her class just grinds my gears,” she mumbled.

“I don’t care for that class myself, Ms. Farmer was rather mean to you. It’s not a surprise that you reacted the way you did. Chloe… well, that was kind of funny, if I’m being fully honest. I didn’t like how her cards were all vaguely racist. So Chloe,” Kate lowered her voice, “telling her to shove them where the sun doesn’t shine was harsh, but I understand her sentiment.”

Max dropped her jaw. _Her cards were kind of vaguely racist._

“They were a tiny bit racist. Chloe is lovely, isn’t she? Sometimes I worry about my friends.” Max stated, only a bit sarcastically.

Kate blushed, “I think you’re all kind of lovely.” As soon as the words slipped out, her eyes grew wide and her face went pale. “Oh, goodness. Well, I’ve got to go. Goodbye, Max.”

And like that, Kate Marsh had disappeared back into her dorm room.

_That was a little odd. She’s sweet, but a little odd._

Her phone in her uniform blazer pocket began to ring and vibrate. Max figured it was probably either her parents or Murphy, calling to discipline her. Sighing, she pulled out the phone and peered at Murphy’s contact photo: him at five years old dressed in a lion costume, chocolate smeared all over his grinning face.

She answered, lifting the phone to her ear. “Okay, before you start yelling at me, I want you to know that Ms. Farmer was being hella rude to me and Chl—,”

“What the fuck are you talking about Mad Max?” Murphy’s voice asked from the other line.

Max took a moment.

“Aren’t you calling to yell at me?” she asked surprised.

Murphy exhaled loudly, “No, genius. I’m wondering if you wanted to go for a bik—hold on, what did you _do_.”

It wasn’t a question—a simple demand.

Max sighed heavily and began pacing slowly back to the direction of her room. Murphy didn’t know about her and Chloe’s little outburst from class. Usually, Murphy just knew things. Either their parents would tell him or other students would trade little bits of information on Max to him here and there.

“Chloe and I sort of… ganged up on Kitty Farmer during a class exercise today. It’s not a big deal, don’t freak out on me.”

There was silence for a moment. “Kitty Farmer? What did you do?” he sounded curious, not at all upset.

“Told her to shove her personality dilemma cards up her ass.” Max mumbled quietly.

Murphy stifled a laugh, “You? Holy shit. That’s hilarious. She’s the worst. She thinks she’s so nice and accomplished, but she’s such a—never mind. There are kids around me.”

Max scoffed, “Freshman swear all the time. You’re only like four years older than them.”

“Whatever. Well, I can’t wait to hear the exciting version of that story from Chloe later. You don’t give it enough _pizazz_.” She could almost picture Murphy's jazz hands in accompaniment to his statement. 

Max outwardly rolled her eyes, pulled her room key out of her pocket and let herself into her room.

“You know it’ll be the first thing she talks about at dinner.”

“Mom and Dad will be a little pissed, I’m sure. Just try to keep any outbursts down to a minimum for the next month or so. They’re still reeling about you almost dying by the rogue lighthouse.”

Max sighed, “You’re not wrong, I guess.”

“Hey, want to go on a bike ride before dinner?” Murphy asked, switching the destination of the conversation.

Max bit the inside of her cheek to ponder the invite. “You’re not going to force me to wait at the end of driveways while you hand off green to people again, are you?”

Murphy gave a wounded scoff, “No. Just trying to hang out with my little sis.”

“Murphy…”

“Alright, that was _one_ time because my boss man couldn’t make the delivery of goods, but no. Just worried about you lately.”

“ _Har-har_. Don’t worry about me, Murph-Man. I’m fine.” Max stated as she flung her messenger bag from her shoulder onto the floor of her new dorm room. “Besides. I’m tired. I’ll probably fall asleep watching some bad television. Don't think I'll make it to dinner tonight. Sort of have a headache.”

“Fine. If you’re sure. When Mom hears, be prepared for about a dozen phone calls when you wake up.” He chortled into the other line.

“Yeah, yeah. Talk to you,” she mumbled before hanging up the call.

Max stripped off her uniform, pulled on some comfortable sweats, and clambered into her dorm room bed with a thick sigh.

As she laid there, eyes getting heavy with the prospects of sleep as a boring show buzzed audio in the background, her eyes flickered to the orange bottle of pills on her nightstand.

_Ugh. Do I take them?_

She was already comfortable in bed, ready to let her eyes closed. She caught a flash of Chloe’s disappointed face if she knew that Max was avoiding the medications again.

_Fuck. Fine._

Pulling herself out from her mound of blankets, she grabbed at the bottle, tipped a horse sized pill into her hands, and pitched it into the back of her throat with a heavy swallow.

She pulled herself under her blankets and held her eyes closed so she could drift into sleep.

\--

_“Wake up, Maxie. We have things to do.”_

_A reverberating, mystic voice echoed through her head._

_Her eyes slit open in a hypnotic daze as she slowly clambered from her dorm bed._

_“Like what?”_

_His silver, bunny face tilted in devilish pleasure_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, hope that was enough for now.
> 
> I'm working on this fic between the second installment of Strange Love and if you found this story because of SL, thanks for sticking with me this far. This one is really fun to write too. 
> 
> I love all of them together. Also, do we think Kate has a crush on Max? Because I do. lol
> 
> Leave some snacks for me in the comments and kudos, friends!! I love Darker!Max.
> 
> Gotta Blaze, 
> 
> Cas

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy!
> 
> Hope this caught some of your interests. Let me know if you'd like more. It's really kind of fun writing this story l o l. 
> 
> I'm having a fantastic time writing Chloe/Rachel too.
> 
> PS: I MADE AN EDIT FOR THIS STORY AND YOU CAN FIND IT ON MY TUMBLR: 
> 
>    
> [MAD WORLD LINK](http://badwolvs.tumblr.com/day/2018/11/13/)
> 
>  
> 
> Gotta blaze,  
> Cas


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